


Lion Ladies

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-15
Updated: 2007-04-22
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: The joint journal of four best friends through love, heartbreaks, infatuations, and plain silliness. Goes back and forth between the actual journal (3rd year) & current time (7th year).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  
Author's notes: 1  


* * *

Lily Evans had never had a clean room. It was a fact of life, and her mother had finally accepted that fact after ten years of cross-house shouting matches. 

Her new stepmother was another matter. 

The new Mrs. Evans was a neat freak in every sense of the word. Her books were organized in alphabetical order. Her shirts, blouses, and sweaters were in separate drawers, arranged by color and shade. Even kitchen condiments were neatly arranged by date of expiration. 

Lily referred to her as “OCD-Gretchy.” Mr. Evans called her “Gretchen, darling.” Everyone in the neighborhood called her “that-wonderful-lady-who-will-take-care-of-Peter-now.” 

For Gretchen had won over the hearts of all the families in the neighborhood, preparing handmade cards and trays of cookies for each and every household. Lily was convinced this lady was a little deranged when she walked into the kitchen one day to find cookies (each a perfect circular shape, arranged in straight rows on top of cookie sheets) covering every surface of the room. But she wasn’t one to complain when cookies were involved.

And there was no denying that Gretchen did take good care of Peter Evans. After the death of his wife, Mr. Evans had been a mess. He was one of the few men who had been truly in love with his wife. Gretchen had been another of Uncle Bob’s set-ups, an effort to distract Peter from his moping. However, after a couple of months and countless dates, it was clear that Gretchen was here to stay. She was Peter’s support system, and as much as Lily hated the thought of a replacement, she was happy her dad had _someone_ , especially when she was off at school. 

Except that this _someone_ had gone into hysterics after two months of living with the Evans, claiming that Lily’s slobbery was unacceptable, un-woman-like, completely disgusting… and so on. Mr. Evans had taken his wife’s side, saying that Lily should have learned to clean her room a long time ago.

Lily had thought to argue, thought better of it, and was now sitting Indian-style in her room, sorting through boxes filled with old belongings. She had already dumped all her laundry in a basket, and she was fairly sure Gretchen would wash it for her if she left it out in the hallway long enough.

“Freaking OCD-Gretchy,” Lily muttered under her breath. “She doesn’t even come into my room anyway. They can lock the door after I leave for school, for all I care! This is ridiculous.” She threw a couple of photographs onto a pile of photo albums and looked around her room, now completely covered with papers and clothes in her attempt to organize. She sighed, turned back to her boxes, and caught sight of a ratty looking journal. Lily planned on throwing it into a pile of ten other journals she discontinued after one or two entries when something on it caught her eye. 

_Lion Ladies_. 

Lily flipped the journal over and looked at the scrawls on the back cover. There was no mistaking it. It was the journal her and her three best friends had kept during third year. Well. Ex-best-friends. Now, four years later, the girls barely said hi to each other in the halls anymore.

Lily sighed again. How did she come in possession of the journal? _The_ journal. 

She flipped the front cover and started reading… 


	2. Journal - Sept 3 to Sept 6

_September 3rd_

**Lily**

Hey girls. I guess I am the first to write in this journal. I suppose I’ll outline why we’re doing this in case we read this in the future. 

This was my idea because I think it’ll be super cute to look at sometime in the future. I surprise myself with my cleverness sometimes. Seriously. I’ll just be sitting there and wham! Idea. Oh, you know what I thought of the other day? We should have tiny disposable pockets on the insides of purses. So, you know, you can throw out your trash while you’re on the go. 

Anyway, Adel was all “What? That’s a retarded idea!” (about the journal, I haven’t told you guys about the pocket idea yet) but then, who was the one who thought of our name? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Gosh, _Lion Ladies_. Be a little more lame, please. Haha just kidding I love you!

But since we voted and Cassie and Catherine and I think it’s a good idea, we’re going to start keeping a journal.

So I think we should have rules. 

**Rule Number One:** This journal must be kept private. Only the LL are allowed to read.

**Rule Number Two:** No writing out anyone’s name. (Besides our own.) Use nicknames. Just in case someone outside the LL finds this one day. 

**Rule Number Three:** No keeping the journal for more than two days at a time. 

So we’ll just keep adding rules on when we think of them. Reasonable?

 

_September 4th_

**Catherine**

So this journal is a pretty great idea- ya-de-ya-da all that crap I should get out of the way so Lily doesn’t jump down my throat about how – oh nevermind.

 

So basically, Professor June is an idiot.

There’s a reason I introduce myself as Catherine. There’s a reason why on rosters, it reads _Catherine_ Ejton. Do you know what that reason is? Because my name IS NOT CATHY. 

She is so giddy and ridiculous ALL THE TIME. I can’t believe we have all year with her. Seriously. Is she even old enough to teach? 

This was our exchange today after she made me stay after.

J: Cathy, do you know why I asked you to stay a little while after today?

Me: I think I might have an idea, m’am. 

J: I understand that it is natural to want to flirt with boys, but in class is not the appropriate time to do it.

Me: *silent*

J: I’m sure Mr. Black appreciated it, but I don’t. Please keep that outside the classroom.

Me: Sorry, Professor. *Pause* Why didn’t you call Sirius down?

J: Well, truthfully, I didn’t think he would listen. 

WHAT IS THAT? IS THAT BLATANT SEXUAL DISCRIMINATION? She must be out of her mind. Oh, and then she PATTED MY HAND. Did I ASK her to pat my hand? 

It wasn’t like, a bad pat or anything. She had nice smooth hands, kinda like an old ladies, all smooth and stuff- but that’s not the point. The point is- she touched me (which might qualify as sexual harassment) right after she sexually discriminated against me. I think she might secretly be a pervert.

Watch. She’ll probably _sexually_ read my name on roll call tomorrow. 

Oh, but Sirius was definitely appreciating the flirting. He is quite gorgeous.

Quite, quite gorgeous.

Probably the most gorgeous guy in our year.

Did you see his arms? He has _nice_ arms. I accidentally bumped my arm against his and it is solid as a rock. I think it must be from all the Quidditch he plays. He plays quite a bit of Quidditch. Hey, we should go watch a practice some time. That would be quite, quite fun. Quite is my new favorite word, p.s.

_September 5th_

**Adel**

I do not know what to write in here.

[Later] I have thought about it, and I still do not know what to write in here, but I will try to write a little bit, because I am NOT (as Lily so accused me) a grumpy grouch. 

Actually, I will draw a picture.

There. It’s a good picture. If you don’t understand it you can ask me later. 

We’re in Defense Against the Dark Arts right now and I am relatively sure Professor Ingot hates us. Why in the world would he use a seating chart? Are we seriously in 2nd grade… seriously.

I hate everyone sitting around me.

Alicia North to the left of me- hate her, she gives me dirty looks all the time.

Jordan George in front- hate him, thinks he’s so suave and tries to pick up girls all the time. Whatever.

Ms. Prissy Pants (Cornelia Greyhen) to the right- well, she’s queen bitch, so there’s really no reason to like her.

Gent Smith behind- he’s really hot, but annoying as hell.

So yeah. Oh, I forgot we’re not supposed to put names in here. Oh well. 

**Rule Number Four:** Rule number two is utter crap and needs to be scrapped, as no one will take the time to read this (other than us if Lily forces us to read this when we’re 7th years or something). 

Now Ingot’s going on and on about some wear-wool. I can’t really hear him talk. Probably because Jordan George is flirting like crazy with that bimbo sitting next to him. Wear-wool, like, the stuff off sheep? Can that really attack you? Hahahha I can see it now. Wear-wool all over Alicia North’s face. Ohhh, that’d be good.

Oh, never mind just snuck a look at Prissy Pants’ notes. Werewolves. How in the world can she hear what Ingot’s saying? I bet she’s sleeping with him and got the notes off him ahead of time. Ha! Too bad she’s too prissy for that! 

Darn, need to go Ingot’s giving me dirty looks because I just made a weird chocking noise and I think he knows I’m not taking notes and he’s going to call on me-------

Oh, brilliant. Fourth day of classes and already on Ingot’s bad list. How the hell was I supposed to know what werewolves are most afraid of? (For future reference- garlic is just a myth, they are actually most afraid of stakes.) Hahahah stakes. Steaks. That’s not really funny, but neither is Ingot giving me a detention for “not paying attention.” 

_September 6th_

**Cassie**

I’m so excited to get this! It kinda stinks that I’m fourth, but it’s okay I’m over it, but I just read all your other entries- and I just have to say:

Catherine- I definitely just saw Sirius Black checking you out two seconds ago! Oh yeah! 

Adel- Alicia and Cornelia are actually really nice and just because you sat in ketchup that one day and they laughed doesn’t mean that they put it there. Because I’m actually pretty sure you squirted it there by yourself by accident. 

Lily- great idea! 

So today is my first day of fellowship. I know some people still think it’s kinda weird that we have a Christian group here since we’re, well, witches and whatnot, but, oh I can’t explain it. 

Anyway, so I was scope-ing out the roster of our new group, and guess who’s on it. Gent Smith!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

He is HOT. 

Sorry this is like, the shortest entry ever, but we’re being partnered up now (Charms) and I don’t think Peter Pettigrew is appreciating me ignoring him very much. Adel- ah, lucky, you got Jordan. He’s good looking too! 


	3. Catherine

_7th Year…_

Catherine flopped back on her bed and stared at the swirly patterns on the ceiling. It had always been a mystery to her why there were swirls on the ceiling as opposed to say, a flat surface. 

She had quit Quidditch at the end of last year after worshipping the sport for 3 years, and since then, she had done a whole lot of nothing. Well, besides making out with Jordan. That wasn’t nothing.

She had done quite a lot with Jordan. More than she had wanted to, she thought. Things only married people were supposed to do, according to some. She wondered if she would marry Jordan. Catherine George. It sounded funny to have a male first name be her last. 

She wasn’t beautiful, really. Her looks weren’t striking, but she definitely wasn’t ugly either. She was a brunette, with small freckles and a round, dotty nose. Her personality was what drew most boys, and it was what captivated Jordan. He loved her sense of humor, her up-and-at-‘em policy. 

Loved. Past tense. She suspected the only reason they were still together was because he couldn’t stand to not have sex for the amount of time it would take for him to find a new girlfriend.

She needed to do something. Something different. So her summer wasn’t completely comprised of hanging out with Jordan, finishing up her school work, and wishing fervently that her birthday would hurry up and come already so that she could perform magic at home. 

The lawn mower was running outside. It was part of her mom’s new duties. After her dad had up and left with his young, new, secretary (when Catherine had found out, she had laughed at how clichéd and ridiculous it was, but she wasn’t laughing anymore), her mom had to do a lot more than she was used to. And being a muggle, she didn’t have the convenience of magic to help her out. 

If Catherine had been a good person, she would have gone downstairs and mowed the lawn for her mom. _But I’m not a good person_.

She decided to talk a walk outside and dragged her usual flip-flops on. Walking past the lawn, she felt slightly guilty watching her mom struggle with the heavy lawn mower, but simply turned left at the side walk and kept walking towards the park a couple of blocks away.

A boy on a bike around her age was heading towards her. As a sign of her stubbornness, she simply kept walking along dead center in the sidewalk instead of stepping off the curb and allowing him to pass. 

“Whoa, excuse me there,” the boy cried as clumsily drove his bike onto the lawn. 

“Yeah,” Catherine replied, not looking directly at him. 

The boy scanned Catherine’s surly face, “Hey I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” 

“I doubt it.” 

“Are you sure? I used to have this friend who looks just like you- well, not just like you because we were friends in elementary school, but she used to live right here, and-“

Catherine was doing some of that wishing again. Wishing the boy would shut up. Wishing she could use her wand to put a silencing charm on him. Wishing she could relieve herself of some of this apathy.

“-and anyway, well, I’m Kevin Hoop, nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for Catherine to shake. Catherine kept her hands in her pocket. 

He awkwardly took back his hand and ran it through his hair. “Err… well, anyway, I guess I’ll let you go.” 

“Yeah,” Catherine replied, and continued walking. 

It wasn’t until the boy was more than a block down the street that she realized the only two phrases she had uttered to someone that wasn’t her mom or Jordan “yeah” and “I doubt it.” 

She stopped dead in her tracks. An ambulance flew down the street past her, shaking her from her thoughts. An ambulance? In suburbia? And unexplainably, she had an epiphany of sorts. There was someone in trouble. Possibly dying. Someone who probably did not want to die, was dying. And Catherine had killed herself with her apathy. _I should really stop doing this. But doing what?_

Catherine wasn’t one to believe in epiphanies. She just simply continued towards the park. 

 

After standing in the park for a little while, Catherine decided that there really wasn’t anything she wanted to do. She headed back to her house to sleep. The lawnmower was still outside, the lawn only half mowed. Her mom wasn’t home. 

_Probably off to get a massage or something._ It wasn’t a big deal. She could take care of herself. And plus, all she wanted to do was sleep. She laid down on the sofa, pulled a thin blanket over her and closed her eyes. 

_Beep._

Answering machine. Oh well.

_Beep._

_Goddamit, shut up so I can sleep_. 

_Beep_.

Aggravated, Catherine picked herself up and walked towards the answering machine. 

_Hi, this is Juliann Johnson calling from the Hoffstrum County Hospital-_

Catherine’s finger, which had been heading towards the delete button, froze. 

_Shit._

That ambulance must have been for her mom.

_Fuck._

In this world, Catherine and her mom only had each other. 

She ran into the garage and picked up the key hanging on the hook. She hadn’t driven, really, ever. When her mom had asked if she wanted to learn how to drive, she had laughed and replied that with magic, she could just apparate. No reason to bother with stupid muggle inventions. 

_How hard could it possibly be?_

She hopped into the driver’s seat and stuck her key in the ignition. She had seen her mom do this plenty of times. Reverse. There. Shit, garage door. Door opener. There. She backed up as slowly as possible, looking frantically between the rear view mirror and side mirrors. When the car was mostly out of the garage, she gassed it. Perhaps a little too hard, because a side window hit the garage door and stuck at a weird angle. 

Oh well, time to fix it later. More important things to worry about. She ran a couple of red lights and realized she had no idea where the hospital was. 

“FUCK GODDAMIT WHAT THE HELL,” she screamed at the road. It felt good to let some of the emotions out. She would call the emergency number. What number was it again? She had to memorize it when she was little. 

_Damn it all to hell_. She thought. She grabbed her wand, which she kept with her at all times, and focused on apparating. One of Jordan’s older friends had taught Jordan (illegally) how to apparate and she had been there, listening. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed to God (strange, isn’t it? She didn’t even believe in God). When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was, in fact, in the hospital. 

_Thank you baby Jesus._ That was what you were supposed to say, right? 

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her to the information desk. “Where’s Mrs. Ejton? Grace Ejton!” 

The receptionist looked far too calm and collected to be sitting in a hospital. “Third floor, room 314,” she answered. “Are you a relative?” 

Catherine didn’t stop to answer as she ran to the nearest stairwell (elevators were too slow for her right now) and ran down the hallway looking for room 314. The door was open, and she abruptly stopped near her mom’s bed. Mrs. Nunkims looked fragile and tiny with her eyes closed in the standard white bed. She was hooked up to several monitors, some of which were beeping and some of which were blinking. 

Catherine sunk down in the chair next to her and held her mom’s hand tight. The tears started flowing. _I’m sorry, mom. I’m sorry I’m hard to live with; I’m sorry I didn’t try and find daddy; I’m sorry I let you deal with all this on your own; I’m sorry I didn’t help you mow the lawn._ She rested her head on the side of the bed.

With a start, she realized she had left the car running in the middle of the road. It didn’t seem to matter too much right now. 


	4. Cassie

_7th Year…_

Cassie lay belly-down on her floor, ticking off names in her head of who she could owl or call up. It was a little bit ridiculous that the one time that she really wanted to distract herself, her schedule was free. 

Colby. Dunlop. Breton. 

She liked the fact that her best friends were all guys- no drama, but then, she was alone in matters like this. Finally, she decided to owl Angelica, a chatty, optimistic girl in her year who always seemed to have something nice to say. 

_Hi Angelica!_

_How’s your summer going? I hope you’re alright._

Cassie chewed on the end of her quill. This was beyond awkward. She only smiled at Angelica in the halls on occasion, but the two had never been close enough to discuss personal matters. And it really would be quite silly to bring this up to an acquaintance. 

She crumpled up the paper and threw it at the trash bin on the opposite side of the room. It fell a bit short, but she didn’t bother picking it up. 

The problem was that she hadn’t wanted to do much of anything lately. In fact, a month ago, she had stopped attending fellowship meetings, and though she felt guilty about deserting God, it seemed a little pointless when she could wave her little wand and make anything happen. Her parents, being muggles who had attended church all their lives, were desperately worried, but they understood that they couldn’t force a belief onto anyone. 

Not that that faith that helped her much in the last couple of years, she bitterly thought. In the last seventeen years of her life, Cassie had never so much as kissed another boy. She had had many crushes, many almosts, and many heartbreaks. 

Cassie’s mom claimed that it was because she gave her heart away too easily. 

“Boys are like fish,” Mrs. Champlain had explained, “you have to gently wave the bait around until one of them is hooked. But if you start reeling in too soon, they’ll swim away.” 

Her dad thought the philosophy was silly. “You’re too young for a boyfriend anyway. You’ll be married one day, and you’ll understand that there’s no point fishing around because everyone has one person they’re destined to be with. Just wait for him.” 

At that point, her dad had looked her mom in the eyes, smiled, and Cassie turned away to allow them some privacy.

Personally, she thought seventeen was plenty old enough to have a boyfriend, that a boyfriend did not have to be someone you married, but rather someone to have fun with, and that fish were stupid animals anyway. 

She needed a boy. It was as simple as that.

And not Colby, Dunlop, or Breton. They were cute, sure, but Hufflepuff boys lacked the personality she craved. 

Cassie walked downstairs to try and find another form of distraction.

Food. No, she was on a diet. 

Soccer. There was no one to kick around with.

Boys. There were none.

School. Cassie groaned. If she had to resort to doing schoolwork in the summertime, she might as well kill herself now. 

She glanced outdoor at the beautiful weather and decided to try tanning. All the muggle girls raved about it, so it couldn’t hurt to try. Walking to the back patio, she laid down on a lounge chair, but quickly realized that with her crisscrossing tank top and shorts, she would get ridiculous tan lines. 

Glancing in both directions to make sure the back patio wasn’t in view of any neighbors, Cassie quickly stripped down and laid face down on the chair. Perfect day for a nice nap.

When Cassie finally managed to drift into a nice drowsy state, she heard a thud somewhere nearby, followed by laughter, and a voice yelling, “I’ll get it!”

By the time she woke up enough to understand what was going on, the unsuspecting boy had stumbled into her yard, picked up the soccer ball, and froze, staring at the random girl lying in front of him, buttocks exposed to the world. 

Quickly turning around, he furiously attempted to explain. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Oh my gosh, I completely didn’t know that there was someone here- we were just playing, and Hugh, that idiot, kicked the ball into your yard, and I figured, no harm just trespassing for two seconds- and oh man, I totally wouldn’t have if I’d known- not that you don’t look nice or anything- not that that’s the point- I mean, I’m sorry, really!” 

During the monologue, Cassie had managed to quickly slip on her shorts and tank top, and stood up. “Umm… it’s alright. It was my fault. Shouldn’t have been doing that anyway.” 

The boy chanced a glance, and upon seeing her dressed, offered one hand awkwardly. “The name’s Quinn. Olin Quinn, but I just go by my last name.” 

Cassie squinted at the boy, placing one hand to block out the sun and shook his hand with her other. “Cassie Champlain. I… er… live here.” 

Quinn, apparently relieved that this girl was going to let this incident go, smiled a genuine smile and backed away still holding the ball. “Nice to meet you Cassie, I’ll see you around!” 

As she was sitting at the table for dinner that night, Cassie thought about the way Quinn had stuck out his hand to shake hers. She thought about the way he had grinned. She had always been a sucker for nice smiles. She thought about their unseemly acquaintance, and couldn’t help but think that maybe, this was a sign of sorts. 

When she was still thinking about this random boy by the time she was getting ready for bed, Cassie had no choice but to admit that her heart did, perhaps, gave itself away a little too quickly. 


End file.
